Fruit and Apples
by fancyfantasyfairy
Summary: Draco’s mind went blank. He didn’t feel the midnight cold that gripped him. He didn’t hear his feet pounding the ground. “I will kill him,” Lucius Malfoy said, and fixed the shattered window. Sillyness and seriousness ensured.
1. Dark Windows

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: READ THIS!: In each chapter (except this one) there will be quotes from Pirates of the Caribbean. I will tell you how many in my authors note in the beginning. The first people to tell me what the quote was will get a plot treat. You must give me access to your e-mail. Good luck!

* * *

Draco Malfoy paced the room. He could either go through with this, which he knew was wrong, or he could run away and become a trader. Draco's shadow followed him as he walked back and forth. The fire was dying and a chill crept into his bedroom. Walking away from it, he could feel the cold increase, but turning around brought him back to the warmth.

It was like his life, he mused. Were he felt at ease was in the cold. The chill of fear or hatred was ever present. Then why did the warm fire draw him near? He liked happiness and love, for some reason.

The dark room seemed to loom closer and closer. As the diminishing fire let out less light, the shadows increased. Only weak people love. A few last flames danced on ash logs. Malfoys were not weak; they were strong. The last flame went out, sending a hiss and a curl of smoke into the air. But if Malfoys were strong, shouldn't he have the strength to break away? The red hot ashes cooled like disappearing stars.

Draco looked at the window across the room. Goosebumps ran up his back. He didn't like windows at night. He didn't like not knowing what lay beyond the black curtain. However, that was his only means of escape. Draco turned towards the door. Going through that door meant joining his father and the Death Eaters; it meant joining Voldemort.

Draco looked back at the window and jumped. The outline of a person stood outside. He stood, paralyzed by fear. Keeping his eyes glues on the figure, he slowly reached for his wand. The person mirrored him. It was his reflection. Draco breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Although nobody was there, he felt fear weakening his knees.

Draco looked back at the door. A new fear gripped him. This was an eternal fear. Draco knew that beyond thatdoor laid a life that meant fear for life.

Looking back at the window felt terrifying. He knew going through that window would lead to a better secure life, though. Getting there was the only scary part; he would have to go _through_ the window.

Making his decision, Draco walked towards the door. Each step increased a sad, sickening feeling in his stomach. Hand inches from the knob, Draco made a sharp turn towards the window. His legs weakened. His muscles tensed. Everything inside him screamed not to get any closer. Draco sensed a new danger. He was not only afraid of the window because he had a strange phobia. There was someone –or something--waiting on the other side.

Draco's vision blurred. His head spun. He took out his wand and shattered the glass. Vaulting through the opening, he bolted off the property, disappearing into the mysterious blackness.

Draco's mind went blank. He didn't feel the midnight cold that gripped him. He didn't hear his feet pounding the ground.

"Luminous," he whispered. Almost immediately, large headlights came into view.

Lucius Malfoy stood up out of the shadows. He put his wand away. Making Draco extra sensitive to the window had not worked.

"I will kill him," he said, and fixed the window.

* * *

a/n: after typing this I feel like an idiot. bangs head against wall stupid stupid stupid. Oh well, on with the next chapter. 


	2. Surprises

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: There are two POTC quotes in this chapter.

* * *

Harry was in his room playing with his wand. Which wand, I'd rather not find out. Just because I'm the author doesn't mean I know what sixteen year old guys do alone in their bedrooms!... Anyway, he was rather enjoying it until the doorbell rang. He didn't hear it ringbut it did. Harry was too absorbed in what he was doing to hear anything but the sudden pounding on his door.

"Unlock this door boy!"

Harry cursed and quickly put away his wand. He went to the door and unlocked it.

Harry only had a fraction of a second to see who his uncle had by the collar before he shoved the boy into the room. Unfortunately, Harry was standing in the way. Both boys tumbled to the ground just as Vernon pulled the door shut.

"I'm contacting your bloody school about this!" he roared, descending the stairs. Harry didn't take the time to realize how unusual that statement was.

Harry moved over,and looked at the muttering boy next to him.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

"I'm at your house?!" Draco began to mutter again. Harry thought he heard something about stupid windows and the nightbus, but he wasn't sure. Draco stopped abruptly and stood up.

"It's like the garbage room in here," Draco said, desperate for any insult.

"Watch it Malfoy."

Draco opened his mouth for another insult, but decided against it.

"Why are you packed up?" he was looking at the trunk on the just-made bed with Hedwig's cage on top. The normally messy desk and window sill was empty. It struck him how small the room was.

"I'm leaving to go to the—" Harry was about to say the headquarters, "to the…" did he really want to say that to a Malfoy? "I'm going to Ron's."

"Took you long enough " Draco walked over to the desk and sat in the chair.

Harry, who had never bothered to get up, leaned against the door. "Why are you here?" he asked again.

"None of your business," Draco spat stupidly.

"Actually Malfoy," Harry stood up, "it is."

Draco held back his next biter remark. He stared at the bland white wall to the right of Harry's head. Should he say he ran away? Or maybe kicked out? Draco's hands suddenly became extremely interesting. What should he say? Without a further thought, Draco stood up. Harry was now rummaging through his trunk, obviously looking for something—Draco didn't care.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked. Draco was halfway to the door. So close.

"I'm leaving," Draco didn't bother to turn around and face Harry. He kept his eyes on the door, determined to bring it closer.

"No you're not." A challenge? Draco faced his opponent. To his surprise, Harry already had his wand out (ok, no more dirty thoughts).

"Going to fight me, Potter?" Draco sneered as Harry approached him. "You know if you use magic, you'll be expelled."

"I don't need to use magic to keep you here," Harry said calmly. He pressed his want into Draco's throat.

"You'd be surprised."

"I don't think so."

Draco had never felt more intimated by Harry. "Why do you want to keep me here anyway?" Draco kept his voice cool.

"Don't be thick," Harry raised a second wand to Draco's throat. His heart skipped a beat. Draco had never felt Harry reach into his pocket and take his wand. Both wands in hand, Harry turned back to his trunk and continued searching.

It suddenly clicked why Harry didn't want Draco to leave. He never told him that he chose not to join the Death Eaters. For all Harry knew, Draco could leave and give the "ok he's here" for Voldemort.

"Sit," Harry commanded. Draco obeyed without a thought. He watched as Harry pulled out parchment, ink, and a quill.

"Who are you writing to?" Draco asked.

"Dumbledore," Harry said, scribbling down the letter.

Draco thought a moment as Harry wrote. Dumbledore's name being mentioned had stirred something within him. He just wasn't sure what it was. "Voldemorts at my house," he finally blurted.

Eyes pierced Draco's gaze, a green fire ablaze within them. Harry wrote something briefly, the paused. "Is that why you left?" he asked, while staring at the parchment.

"Y…yes," Draco hesitated.

Harry scribbled something else. "And you came here?"

"Not on purpose!" Draco said defensively, bringing back his cool tone. "I asked the nightbus to bring me to the nearest home with a witch or wizard."

"And you were brought here?" Harry looked up, the fire extinguished.

"Obviously."

Harry finished his letter and folded it up. He coaxed Hedwig out of her cage onto his arm and handed her the letter. Petting her, he walked to the window, opened it, and let her fly out. "I'm the closest wizard to your house?" Harry turned around and sat back on his bed.

"So. It. Would. Seem." Draco never liked stupid or repeated questions. "I'm not going to the Weasel's house," he changed the subject.

"Neither am I," Harry said, hoping to confuse him. He hadn't caught Draco's "slip of tongue." "I'm going… somewhere else."

Judging on Harry's uncomfortable behavior, Draco took a guess at where "somewhere else" was. "You're going to 12 Grimuald Place aren't you?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "How do you know?"

"Your reaction," Draco replied smugly.

"How much do you know?"

"I know it's the headquarters for the Order. Black's old house. It's in the family."

"Do you know where it is?"

"It cannot be found unless you already know where it is. It's too well protected."

"Just making sure."

There was an awkward silence.

"What were you doing before I got here?" Draco asked out of curiosity.

Harry blushed. "Nothing," he looked away.

"What was it?" Draco insisted. He enjoyed making Harry uncomfortable.

"Nothing!"

"Come on, Potter."

"Malfoy! What do you do alone in your room?"

Draco was taken aback by Harry's sudden burst. When he thought about it, however, he realized why Harry didn't want to mention it. "Right… so when do we eat?"

Harry looked at his watch. "Well, its 11pm and they, my aunt, uncle, and cousin, just went to bed. I'd give it another hour."

"What?!"

"Just to be safe. So we don't get caught."

"You have to sneak into the kitchen just to eat? Why won't they let you?"

"Only when my uncle's angry—you made him angry." Harry wanted Draco to know the torture he lived through.

Draco thought a moment. Harry's lifestyle was completely different from what he had imagined. He didn't want to have to sneak his food. "I'd rather go to bed," he concluded.

"I won't be leaving tonight anyway, not with you here." Harry then removed his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage from his bed. He turned to the window to close it, but hesitated. Should he close it? He decided to leave it open.

When Harry turned around, he was surprised to find someone already in his bed. "Get out Malfoy. It's my bed."

"I'm the guest," Draco turned away from Harry.

"Do you think I care?"

"No."

Harry didn't want to pick a fight now. He was tired and hungry. "Fine. But I get the pillow and blanket."

Draco didn't have time to protest before both were ripped away. "Hey-!"

"Good night," Harry turned off the light. He hoped he would still have the blanket and pillow when he woke up.

Draco was about to take the pillow and blanket back when a breeze came through the open window. His head snapped up. There was no moon on this overcast night, and the stars hid behind the clouds. Not wanting to look at the black night, Draco turned around and went to sleep. He tried not to think of the window.


	3. Leaving Again

Disclaimer: I own nothing

a/n: there are two potc quotes in this chapter. my self-esteem is very low at the moment. my writing sucks. that's what I have concluded. (oh yes, im eating an apple as I write this, fyi)

enjoy and think of apples

Draco awoke to a tapping noise. He turned away from the sound. Tap. Tap. Tap. He pressed his ear into the mattress and covered his other ear with his hand. Tap. Tap. Tap. Groaning, Draco sat up. The small room startled him. For a split-second he had forgotten where he was before the events of last night flooded back to him. Tap. Tap. Tap. Draco shifted his gaze to the window. Startled to see something actually there, he jumped and fell off the bed. Draco's hip smashed to the floor first, followed by his elbow, then wrist. Moaning, he looked up. If he had fallen a few inches to the left, he would have landed onto a pillow and pile of blankets. Tap. Tap. Tap. Draco again looked to the now closed window. A white owl sat on the outside sill. It looked like a slow motion wood pecker as it repeatedly tapped the window. Annoyed, Draco stood and let the bird in.

"Stupid owl," Draco muttered as it landed on his outstretched arm. I glared at him and then turned its head away an dup, as if balancing something on the tip of its beak. The bird roughly shoved its leg towards Draco, waiting for him to untie the letter. Once he had done so, the owl bit his finger harshly and then soared back out the window.

Cursing the freaking owl, Draco looked down at his pinched finger. A bead of blood had appeared. He grabbed a tissue from the night stand and wiped it off.

Draco looked at the letter. It was addressed to Harry. Why had the stupid owl given it to him? Draco opened it anyway.

_I shall arrive at 12 noon_.

Wondering who was coming at noon, Draco flattened his hair and left the room in search for Harry.

Harry paid the fruit delivery man and, balancing several pounds of apples, closed the door. He entered the kitchen where his only living relatives sat at a table set for no more than three. He set one pound in the center of the table and then proceeded to get out napkins. As he was pouring drinks, Draco found his way into the kitchen. He stopped as he entered, looking around in wonder, and possibly surprise. Draco's gaze lingered on the television (the volume had just been cranked up by Dudley) and then rested on Harry.

Harry walked over to him. "What?"

"You got a letter," Draco said handing over the opened envelope. "and an annoying owl."

"You read it," Harry glared. He made a mental to hex him as soon as they go on the train.

"Couldn't resist, mate."

Harry looked up after reading.

"Who's coming?" Draco asked.

"Dumbledore," Harry answered He knew his handwriting by now. "in 15 minutes," He added after checking his watch.

Draco was surprised. "I slept that late?"

"Yep."

"Is he—" Draco started, but Harry never got to hear what Draco wanted to ask. Dudley ripped the letter from his cousin's hands.

"HARRYS GOT A LETTER! HARRYS GOT A LETTER!"

Vernon laughed and took the note from his son. "Who wants to write to _you?_"

Draco couldn't believe Harry's only family treated him this way.

"Who's coming?" Vernon asked after reading the letter.

"My headmaster. From school," Harry was curious how his uncle would react.

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley froze, and the television blared. Petunia took an expression that reminded Harry of Narsissa Malfoy when he had seen her at the Quiddich Cup. Vernon went from shock to anger at an alarming rate. His face turned a deep red. Vernon rose from the table and stomped over to the boys.

"Why is _he_ coming here?" Vernon showered Harry with spit.

"Most likely to talk to Malfoy," Harry said, resisting the urge to wipe his face.

Draco cringed at the mention of his name. He had hoped Harry wouldn't bring him into this.

Vernon turned to Draco. "You're 'Malfoy'?" he almost mocked.

"Yes." _This muggle is nothing compared to my father._

Vernon brought his face uncomfortably close to Draco's. "So it's your fault that that bloody weirdo is coming here?" He reached a pudgy hand around Draco's thin neck. Draco waited for him to squeeze, but he didn't. _Coward._

"LET HIM GO!" Harry yelled.

"DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT BOY!" Vernon roared.

"I will," Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at his uncle.

"Pp-put that away!"

"No. Not until you let go of him."

"Mr. Vernon Dursly, I must ask you to unhand my student," Dumbledore said from behind him. Nobody noticed when he had arrived. "Put down your wand, Harry," He continued casually.

Vernon released Draco and stepped away. Petuna and Dudly ran behind him.

"Mr. Malfoy, may I speak with you?" Dumbledore asked kindly, slightly concerned how unfazed Draco looked.

"Yes sir."

"I believe the living room is this way..." The two walked out of the kitchen.

Uncle and nephew made eye contact. Harry didn't know how long they glared at each other. It was a loathing and challenging glare. If one dared to move, the other would be ready—ready for whatever he might try. They bore into each other's eyes, despising every detail. Nothing else mattered at the moment but the hatred filled within them. They were disgusted at each other.

"When are you leaving?" Vernon broke the disdained silence.

"I don't know."

"When is your headmaster leaving?"

"He will most likely apparate tonight"

"_Apparate?_ Is that one of _your_ words?

"…Yes" _He's gone mad._

"Down to the depths whatever madman thought of those excuses for words!" Vernon roared.

"French," supplied Dumbledore as he and Draco returned to the kitchen. Harry and Vernon broke eye contact. "Latin based of course. Inventors of mayonnaise. It's a shame with the French really. Obsessed with raisins. Humiliated grapes really…" We know he's crazy. "Harry, you and Mr. Malfoy will be departing for the headquarters now."

"The headquarters? Now? He's going too?" Harry pointed to Draco. "How do you know he's not a spy? He could be feeding information to Voldemort!"

Dumbledore looked sternly at Harry. "You must trust my judgment,"

"Voldemort?" Vernon spoke up. "Isn't he the one that wants you killed boy?"

Harry looked at his uncle. He couldn't believe he was bringing this up now. "Yes."

"And he could be a spy?" Vernon raised his voice as he pointed to Draco.

"No!" Draco protested. "I'm not!"

"GET OUT!" Vernon roared. "GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE! YOU WILL NOT ENDANGER MY FAMILY!"

"Please," Dumbledore said gently. "If you like, I will write you explaining everything. Right now, I'm afraid I don't have the time." Vernon turned purple, but didn't dare challenge the wizard.

Dumbledore looked around after settling Vernon. Seeing what he wanted, he walked to the table and took an apple. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow this," he said to Petunia. "_Portus."_ The apple glowed an unnatural blue and then went back to red. "Come here, Harry, Draco."

The boys stepped towards their headmaster.

"This will bring you to the headquartes." Dumbledore indicated the apple. "Harry, your trunk and Hedwig will arrive shortly after you. Please lend some clothes to Draco. He is unable to retrieve his own."

Harry and Draco glared at each other.

"Remember," Dumbledore continued. "Don't ring the doorbell. A soft knock will do. They will be expecting you." His eyes twinkled. "Ready? 1… 2… 3"


	4. Grimmuald Place

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: I made a mistake in the last chapter!! I bashed my head against the wall when I read this sentence: 'Harry made a mental note not to hex him (Draco) as soon as they got onto the train.' This is wrong. It should not have the 'not' in it. (wow that sounds confusing.) It should read: 'Harry made a mental TO hex him as soon as they got on the train.' I have fixed it.

There are 2 quotes. Remember to give me access to your email or you cant have your treats!!!

Anyway, on with the chapter.

* * *

Harry and Draco were plopped onto the sidewalk in between two houses. Draco looked around the neighborhood, wondering which house was the headquarters. None of them fit the description he had overheard his father talking about one night. Draco never noticed Harry walk away as he absentmindedly looked at a lamp post across the street. It flickered on, a small haze of light surrounding it with the approaching dusk.

Somehow, the time had elapsed, but that is not what Draco was thinking about. He remembered that night perfectly. Voldemort was holding a Death Eater meeting and his father had offered to have it at the manor. He had wanted Draco to join, but he was terrified, and became ill. Lying in bed, Draco could not sleep. The time seemed to move unnaturally quickly.

Exactly midnight, when Voldemort was supposed to arrive, every fire was extinguished. Draco broke into a cold sweat has his fireplace suddenly hissed into dead ash. Without thinking, he looked over to his window. The curtains were open. Draco closed his eyes as his heart leapt up into his throat.

_I thought I shut them. I could have sworn I shut the curtains!_

When he opened his eyes, a tall man, dressed in all black, stood inches from his bed. Draco looked up at the snake like skull. Fear paralyzed him.

"I know your fears," Voldemort said, running a long bony finger along Draco's cheek, "every, last, one." He disappeared without a sound.

As the memory ended, Draco was again aware of where he was. He looked around for Harry, only to find himself alone in an increasingly dark and strange neighborhood. He was about to turn around when-

"BOO!" Harry jumped in front of Draco, and sent Ron and Hermione into laughter.

Draco screamed higher than a girl could ever dream to accomplish. Being shook up like that, plus the effects of his horrible memory sent his emotions on overload. Draco backed up a few steps, sunk to the ground in a ball, and uncharacteristically sobbed silently into his knees.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped laughing.

"I told you he's different," muttered Harry.

Hermione, hesitating a little, knelt down next to Draco. "We didn't mean to scare you that badly,…" she trailed off. Should she call him by his first name? He was so different.

Draco dried his tears and looked up at her with puffy red eyes. He looked over his shoulder to find what was unmistakably Grimmuald Place.

"How long has that been there?" Draco tried to sound cold, but it did not work.

"About fifteen minutes," Ron said. "We tried to tell you to come in, but you ignored us," he finished bitterly.

* * *

"Ok, we can go in now," Harry said upon seeing the headquarters appear. He started walking towards it, but realized he was not being followed. Harry turned around to see Draco staring, fixed at something across the street. 

"Oy! Malfoy! Let's go!" Ron said from next to Harry.

Harry turned to see his two best friends beside him.

"We'll come back for him," said Hermione.

The three went into Grimmuald Place, leaving Draco behind. Having left the door open, they let themselves in and went to the bedroom for Ron and Harry.They could talk freely there.

Harry stopped at the door to the bedroom. "There are three beds in here," he said.

"I know," said Ron, as he shut the door. "That git Malfoy is sharing the room with us."

Harry slumped onto his bed. "I'm not sure what to think of that," he said at last.

"Why is he here?" Hermione asked, "Nobody told us."

Harry told them about Draco's arrival, and how he had decided not to join the Death Eaters.

"He's so different. Well, you can tell. Would the old Malfoy shed evena single tear?" Harry finished.

"I don't know about this," Ron said. "You were right! He could be a spy."

"You of all people should trust Dumbledore!" Hermione said to Harry. "After all he's done for you… Lets go see if Malfoy wants to come inside."

* * *

"Come on," Harry held out his hand to help Draco up. "There's food in there we can actually eat." 

Draco looked suspiciously at Harry's hand and stood up himself. He wondered why they were treating him so nicely. Draco wondered if he should voice his question, and combine it with a sour tone to hide his concern. He hesitated, and then pushed past them to the front door. He tried to go inside, but the door had shut and locked.

"Nice job," he said sarcastically, "you locked us out." Draco reached up to ring the doorbell.

"Don't!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione bolted the last half of the lawn to the front door. Confused, Draco held his hand in mid air.

"Your all batty," he said as they reached him, and rung the bell.

Efforts lost, the trio froze. They didn't have time to say anything before the door swung open, emitting a horrible screaming. All four were pulled inside, shoved down the hall and up the stairs. Halfway up the screaming stopped. They were still, none the less, shoved into a room with three beds by a very angry Mrs. Weasley. She slammed the door shut causing more, yet ruffled screaming.

"WHO rang the doorbell?" she demanded.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at Draco, and stepped back. Draco glared at them, and then sent a chilling gaze at Mrs. Weasley, daring her to yell at him.

Mrs. Weasley immediately reacted upon seeing it was Draco who had done it.

"Oh, Draco, dear," Mrs. Weasley wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "It's ok, you didn't know." Harry heard the forced kindness in her voice, and how her eyes did not exactly sparkle when she smiled at Draco.

"Just, for further reference, try not to ring the doorbell. And don't make loud noises in the hall… Thank you dear," she squeezed him, and then added to everyone, "Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes." Mrs. Weasley walked out the door, and shut it quietly.

"Who was screaming?" Draco asked.

"Distant relative of your cousin's, twice removed… lovely singing voice… spayed…" Hermione trialed off, slightly confused.

"Wow," Ron looked at her with raised eyebrows.

_POP_. Two identical people appeared in the room

"Hey George, look what Harry found in the street!" Fred grabbed Draco by the back of his shirt and drug him over to George.

"Shame you got this one," George said, mock inspecting Draco. "You could have gotten a much nicer ferret at a store."

Fred held a struggling Draco by the arms. George used the tip of his wand, lit by the _lumos_ charm, to look in Draco's right eye, up his nose, and in his mouth.

"Let me go!" Draco tried to bite George's wand when he stuck it in his mouth, but George was too quick. "Let me go you filthy trash Weasels!" The insult was weak, but affective. "Let me—ah!"

George poked Draco in the stomach with his wand. This reduced Harry and Ron to hysterical laughter, and they sunk to the ground.

"Shut up!" Draco directed towards them. George, motivated by their amusement, decided to poke more.

"Hey!" Poke- forehead.

"Stop!" Poke- knee.

"Stop it!" Poke- shoulder.

Draco could deal with the pain, but this form of torture was completely new to him. It wasn't exactly embarrassing—it was just _weird_.

"Poke in the right places and that can pass as sexual harassment," Hermione wanted to see the twin's reaction to this statement.

Fred and George laughed, and George took aim a bit lower…

"No!" Draco folded to the ground causing Fred to let go. Once he was free, Draco ducked out from between the twins.

"Ha!" he said, now on defense. "We can fight properly now."

"Fight properly?"asked Fred.

"As far as I can remember, you're not of age and can't do magic outside of Hogwarts," said George smugly.

"That doesn't mean I won't fight," Draco reached for his wand, however; it was not there. "My wand! Where is it? Who took it? Potter!" The six occupants of the room (including the blank picture frame of Phineas Nigellus who was quietly snickering) watched in amazement as he went rapidly from one mood to another.

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "I never gave that back." He reached into his back pocket and drew out both wands. Harry looked from Draco to his wand and back again. He smiled, and replaced the wands in his pocket.

"Potter," Draco stompedover to him, "give me my wand back." He held out his hand.

"Why? It's not like you're going to use it. You're still underage." Harry smirked and folded his arms.

Draco considered his options. He could either continue to verbally fight, or tackle Harry to get his wand back. He'd probably end up tackling him anyway, and Harry was looking quite defenseless with both wands stored away and his arms folded. Draco lunged forward.

Both boys git the ground with a loud thud. Ron, Fred, and George immediately jumped in on Harry's defense.

Hermione gasped. "Stop! Stop fighting!" She tried to pull whoever was closest out of the pile, only to have him rush back again.

"FREEZE!" Mrs. Weasley had come up to tell them dinner was ready. She was not very happy with the scene. "Stand up, all of you!"

The boys stood up, and Harry quickly slipped Draco's wand in his pocket.

"Malfoy tackled Harry, Mom," said Ron.

"We were only helping Harry," said George.

"He stole my wand!" Draco pointed accusingly to Harry.

Harry faked surprise, "No I don't," he reached into his back pocket. "I only have my own." Harry pulled out a single wand to show Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley folded her arms. "Draco," she said, "your wand is in you pocket."

Draco, slightly surprised from being addressed by his first name, looked down. Sure enough, a long skinny wooden wand poked out of his pants pocket.

"What-?" Draco said. "But, it wasn't there before! He- he-" Draco pointed to Harry again with a loss of words. Harry smirked back.

"Dinner is ready," Mrs. Weasley said through clenched teeth. "You have," she looked at her watch, "exactly two minutes to be at the table. A second later and you will go without it tonight."

Mrs. Weasley wrenched the door open, stepped out, and slammed the door shut for the second time that night.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Fred, and George stood looking at the door in a slightly stunned silence. Then simultaneously, they lunged for the door.

* * *

Thank you to my reviewers! You mean so much to me! 


	5. Changing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: I have a warning for this chapter: weirdness and boredom. I had major writers block and I wanted to get in another chapter before break was done. Here is the first thing that came to mind. I can't believe I wrote this. Justification- Rowling doesn't do much in telling us that Harry and Ron have much of a dirty side. It's unnatural.

I've also decided to proof read better and more than once. Just because I cringe every time I see a typo.

And I cringe a lot.

Almost forgot. There is only one quote in this chapter. And it's my longest chapter!

Oh well.

On with it.

* * *

Dinner was delicious, however not all together enjoyable. Half expecting to be in the middle like usual, Harry was slightly disappointed when Hermione sat next to Ron. Not that he had feelings for her in that way, he normally could have cared less. This time was different. This time in meant Harry had to sit next to Draco.

Just to make matters worse, people from the order kept popping in and leaving without saying much. Most just wanted to see for their own eyes if Draco Malfoy had indeed decided not to join the dark side. For some reason, everyone could not simply rely on what they had been told.

Despite this, dinner went somewhat smoothly—and somewhat silently. That is, dinner was going smoothly until dessert. Draco was happy with his cookies, but he couldn't help craving an apple. The problem was, this particular apple happened to be in the fruit basket, and this particular fruit basked happened to be sitting in front of Ron.

Normally, it would have been on big deal. Draco needed just to ask Ron to pass the fruit basket, and his troubles would be over. It wasn't that simple.

Draco didn't know how to get Ron's attention. There was nothing wrong with his social skills; it was just that, Draco did not know how to address Ron. If they were sitting next to each other, Draco could nudge him and ask him to pass the basket. However, Harry was in the way. Harry seemed to cause so many troubles for Draco. As it ended up, Draco needed to address Ron. And he was back at the beginning.

Normally, he would call him 'Weasel,' but he couldn't say that here. His next choice would be 'Weasley,' but there were far too many at the table. Draco took an inward sigh. He would have to call him by his first name, something that most Slytherins were not accustomed to. There was no other way. He had to call him 'Ron.'

"Weasel- oh, I mean-" Dang. He messed up.

Harry turned and hit Draco over the head with the palm of his hand.

"You're not dead," Ron pointed out.

"No… he shot me!" Draco pointed to Harry.

"The curse is still upon us!" Hermione raged.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"No idea," said Ron

"And I thought he changed," Hermione said almost to herself.

"We use first names here, Draco," said Mr. Weasley sternly.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Ron," he spoke up, "could you pass me an apple?"

"Sure," said Ron carelessly. "Catch." Ron threw the apple over Harry's head to Draco.

Draco wasn't expecting this. He looked stupidly at Ron just in time for the apple to come smashing into his head.

"Ow," he said dully. Draco made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan as the apple rolled on the floor. He bent over to get it.

"Oh, sorry," said Ron. "Here's another one." He tossed an orange over. This one hit Draco in the back, as he wasn't done getting his apple.

"Ah—stop," Draco said sitting up.

Hermione giggled. "Ron, stop," she said, and put her hand on his arm as he reached for a pear.

"Brilliant," said Fred to himself. "Bloody brilliant."

* * *

After dinner (and many jokes about Ron attacking Draco with fruit) Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Fred, George, and Ginny went upstairs. They went into the room they always did—the one Harry, Ron, and Draco shared. Once in, they settled down. Ron and Hermione sat on the bed to the left, Harry and the twins took the middle, Draco took the bed to the right, and Ginny occupied Hedwig and Pig.

"Ron, we have to tell Harry," said Hermione after the door had been shut so they wouldn't disturb Mrs. Black.

"Tell me what?" asked Harry.

"With Malfoy here?" Ron asked, his ears turning a light red.

"First names," Draco mocked. Ron ignored the comment, so Harry glared at him.

"Tell me what?" Harry repeated.

"Ron and I have decided to date," said Hermione.

"It's about time," said Draco before Harry had a chance to say anything.

"But they haven't got the chance to date yet," said Fred.

"Well," said Harry, "I'm happy for you." He really was. Harry hadn't noticed much of a change, and for that, he was glad.

"So," said Draco as he sat on the floor between Harry and Ron's beds, "how far have you gone?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows up and sown suggestively.

"Shut up!" said Hermione. She hated Malfoy just then.

"Why not?" Being a guy, and one with very few morals, Draco saw nothing wrong.

"We're not even out of school yet!" Hermione was beginning to worry that Draco might spread rumors. Paranoid? Maybe.

Draco shrugged, "So."

"Fred, get the pills," George whispered.

"Rightyo." _POP_. Fred disappeared.

"Oh my god," said Ginny. "I know what those pills are for."

"No you don't," said George.

_POP_. Fred reappeared with a small black sack in his hand.

"Ginny thinks she knows what the pills are for," George said to Fred.

"No you don't," said Fred.

"You're not the only ones with extendable ears," she said.

"You've been eavesdropping on us!" said George.

"What? Gona wine to mum I'm doing what you do all the time?" she challenged. "With your own invention?"

"Leave Ginny," said Fred.

"No."

"This conversation will get too corrupt for you're little ears. Leave," George pointed to the door.

"Then I'll tell mom you're talking about Ron and Hermione having sex!" Ginny folded her arms.

"Let her stay," said Ron and Hermione together.

"You wouldn't," said Fred.

"I would."

"You wouldn't," said George

"I would."

"I think she would," said Harry.

"Fine," said the twins, realizing defeat. Then, to Ron's horror, his brothers walked to either side of him. He knew he would have to eat something.

"Lets see if we don't change your mind about sex," said George. He and Fred pinned a struggling Ron to the bed.

"Open up," said Fred.

Ron kept his mouth firmly shut, but a small flesh colored pill, less than half the size of a jelly bean, was shoved into his mouth anyway.

George held Ron's mouth shut and pinched his nose. "You can't have air until you swallow." Ron swallowed immediately.

Hermione looked disgusted. "You're horrible," she said. "Sorry Ron, I'm leaving."

Ginny shrugged and followed Hermione out of the room.

"Finally," muttered Fred. "Feel any different?" he directed towards Ron.

"Should I?" Ron looked worried.

"This pill makes you extremely horny, extremely fast," said George.

"I need to find a bathroom," Ron said, and attempted to get up.

"No need little bro," said Fred. He and George held Ron down again. A small purple pill was shoved into his mouth. Ron knew the procedure; he swallowed.

"What does that one do?" he asked sitting up.

"Two things," said George. "It cancels the effects of the first pill, and something else," he smiled evilly.

"What else does it do?" Ron looked worried again.

"Take a look," said Fred, glancing down.

Ron frowned. "What?"

George coughed. "Take a look," he repeated, and glanced down also.

Ron hesitated and then looked down. He pulled the waist band away from his body.

"Woah," he said, and looked at his brothers. "Does it stay that big?"

"Until you eat another one," said Fred indicating the bag.

"Wicked," Ron said looking down again. Then he let the waist band snap back to his body.

"I thought you only made prank and joke stuff," Harry commented suspiciously.

"We let our minds wonder on this one," said George.

"And because you are our financer," Fred said, handing Harry a pair of pills. He looked at Draco and took on a quizzical look.

"I joined your side!" said Draco defensively.

"Yeah, ok," Fred handed him a pair as well.

Harry examined the flesh colored pill. "Does it have any other side effects?" he asked.

"We've seen none so far. Our test-ees seem to be doing just fine," said George.

"Who are your test-ees?" asked Draco sarcastically. "Us?"

"Not you," said Fred. "George and I."

"I think I'll save mine till later," said Harry.

Draco considered this. "I don't want to loose mine," and he dropped the pills into his mouth.

* * *

Only Ron knows how the pills went over with Hermione. And, no, I'm not suggesting anything.

* * *

To say that being at Grimmuald Place was boring was an understatement. With Draco at the headquarters, the members were being more careful (if that was possible) to make sure that nothing was overheard. Dumbledore made that possible.

Dumbledore had found or invented (Hermione was doing the research) a new way of communicating face to face using a blank slate. It was very light, about eight by ten inches, and pitch black. To use it was very simple. One must hold it and think of what he or she wanted to say. The words would appear on the slate. Once it had been read, the words would disappear.

This replaced the small conversations between Order members at the door which extendable ears could be used. Fred and George were now working on extendable eyes, but there was a lot of work to be done, so they said.

At first, Harry, Ron, and Hermione thought this extensive security was because of Draco. In a way, they were right, but weren't thinking alone the correct lines. The trio thought that the Order still did not fully trust Draco, and they didn't want the possibility that information would find its way to his ears. The truth was the exact opposite, actually. It was not to him that the Order was afraid information would leak to.

A couple of days after Dumbledore put the slates into use, Draco was invited (told, really) to join an Order meeting.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins couldn't believe it when the soft knock sounded from the bedroom door. All were jealous, and almost angry that Draco could join, and they could not. Why did Draco get to join a meeting, when only a few weeks ago, he was well on his way to becoming a Death Eater.

Draco knew why. The Order wanted information from him. Draco _had_ a lot of information to give. His father was positive he had molded him into the perfect son, and fed him the latest Death Eater news.

Draco welcomed the information. He was finally getting attention from his father.

It started in his fourth year at Hogwarts. He started his "Death Eater Training," as Lucius had called it. During that year, Draco learned to respect—meaning love—and fear his father. Love was not a word to be used in the Malfoy family.

Which was why Draco was terrified of joining this Order meeting. It had been drilled into his head not to leak information. It had been drilled into his head to relish in pain, hatred, and horror. How could Draco stand in front of the people he had considered enemies for so long and go against everything he had been taught? No, he would rather stay out and let Harry or Fred or Ginny join the meeting instead.

But it had to be him.

So when Mr. Weasley kindly asked for a small amount of his time, how could he say no? Deep inside, Draco was weak, and he knew it. Is that not why he fled from his home?

"Be strong," his father had told him. "It will do you good to be strong," he had said darkly.

Determined to listen to at least one bit of advice and not go completely against his father, Draco stepped into the meeting room.

* * *

"How was it?"

"What do you know?"

"What did they tell you?"

"What did you tell them?"

Draco met the only other teens in the house in his shared bedroom. He felt horrible. Draco was surprisingly bold at the meeting. He gave a book load of information, and learned a book load too. Although he was not a member, they had shared their knowledge with him (only after taking an oath of secrecy). Together, they had filled in some holes. He had to admit, it was fun piecing things together. It left him, however, with a miserable after-feeling.

"Draco?"

"How was it?"

Too many questions. Even after the meeting had ended, he could not escape them. Draco looked at the leg of his bed. He wanted to kick it until every bone in his foot was broken. Then he wanted to hit his head against the wall until his skull cracked. After that, he would run unto the wall so many times, he would make a hole, and then fling himself out of it, hopefully falling three stories to his death.

"Hello?"

"Draco?"

He was being moved away from the bed to a chair. Draco was suddenly aware of his surroundings.

"What do you want?" he asked bitterly, getting up and beginning to walk away.

"Information," supplied George bluntly.

"Everybody wants information," said Draco. His old personality was surfacing. Turning around, he whipped out his want and pointed it at the people he had begun to call friends. "I am in no mood to give you what you want." Satisfied with their stunned silence, Draco turned around again.

Ha! He had shown them. Never mess with a Malfoy.

"Unless…" Draco turned yet again and made a beeline to Harry. He stopped a foot away from him. "We could _trade_ information."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

Draco was suddenly overwhelmed with a new emotion. Instead of feeling angry and annoyed, he felt regret. How could he have been so cold to the only people who accepted him? He made for his bed.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, lying on his stomach. "Remember, because I'm not a member of the Order, I was sworn to secrecy."

"Well that ruins it," said Ron.

"Not completely," said Hermione. "I have a question. Why did you choose not to join the Death Eaters?"

Draco felt as if he had just had a blow to the stomach.

"Alright," he gulped. "My question is for Harry. What was is this 'prophesy' I keep hearing about?" Draco had heard it mentioned both at his house and during the meeting, but no one wanted to inform him what it was.

Harry felt a similar feeling Draco had just had. He knew that Draco was referring to his prophesy. Harry had not told his friends about it yet.

"You go first," said Harry.

"I'm waiting," said Draco.

"Mine takes a while to explain."

"You don't know how much I _don't_ want to answer my question."

"Best to get it over with then."

Draco glared at Harry, but considered it nonetheless. He did have a point…

Draco rolled onto his back. It was much easier to look at the ceiling.

"I'm weak," he said at last. "I'm a wimp; I don't like pain—inflicted on me or anyone else," he specified. "I don't like death; I don't like being scared; I'm afraid of the dark; I can't live up to my father's or the Dark Lord's expatiations; I can't be a Death Eater because I can't plot murder." Draco rolled over and made eye contact with Harry. "That's why."

Hermione looked confused. "Draco, isn't your father in Azkaban?"

"No," said Draco, still looking at Harry. "My mother is there in his place. They are pulling a Crouch on the dementors, but I told the Order. They're going to investigate."

"Wow," said Hermione.

Harry wasn't expecting such a confession from Draco. Come to think of it, he didn't know what he would have expected, but it certainly wasn't that. He never thought Draco felt all of that. Draco didn't _appear_ to feel those things.

"Your turn," Draco interrupted Harry's thoughts. "Tell us about the prophesy Harry."

Harry felt the weight of six pairs of eyes on him. He felt almost panicky as he prepared to tell his friends the source of all his troubles… his horrors. Harry looked at each of them in turn, then down at his shoes, and began.

Harry told them, without interruption, what the prophesy said and meant, and how Dumbledore hat is saved in his pensive. He told them how there was someone else—Neville—and why Voldemort had chose him instead. Harry told his friends why he had to go to the Dursley's each summer. He repeated everything Dumbledore had told him the morning after Sirius…

It was hard, and Harry wished for there to be some kind of distraction to save him from the silence that followed his explanation. It came.

"Kill him—quick," said Draco. "I'll teach you the unforgetables. My father taught me. We just need some house elves-"

"YOU WILL NOT PRACTICE ON HOUSE ELVES!" Hermione screeched. "YOU WILL NOT!" She was standing now. "DUMBLEDORE WILL MAKE SURE HARRY LEARNS WHAT HE SHOULD AND HE WILL _NOT PRACTICE ON HOUSE ELVES!"_

Draco was stunned. He did not know about Hermione's S.P.E.W. yet.

"Ha-ha," laughed Ron. "You got the wrath of Hermione and _spew._"

"_You did not just say that Ron,_" said Hermione, turning on her boyfriend.

"No I didn't," Ron covered his mouth with his hand.

Harry had got the distraction he wished for. He suddenly felt extremely tired.

"I'm going to bed," he announced.

"What?!" shrieked Ginny. "It's only 6:00!"

"Oh well, I don't care," said Ron. "I'm going to bed too. What about you Draco?"

"Sure, why not?" There was little point in staying up.

"See ya," said George. POP. The twins were gone.

"We can talk more about this later. Good night," said Hermione. She kissed Ron. "Are you going to bed Ginny?"

"Not now. It's too early!" she couldn't believe they all wanted to sleep.

"Well I am," said Hermione.

"What?!" You lot are boring," Ginny stomped out of the room.


	6. Thoughts of Eyes

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: hmmm, let's see. This chapter is very creative, uncreative, and slightly boring all at the same time. Whatever. And, wow, I forgot to add potc quotes. Just realized that now, can you believe it? Also, I wanted to add the OWL results, but I couldn't make it fit. They will be in the next chapter. Ta.

* * *

"Boy!"

Harry woke with a start. It was 5:30 am, and he had woken up a half an hour late. Just seconds ago, he heard Uncle Vernon's pounding footsteps thundering up the stairs. Harry had done it this time, and now he was in big trouble.

Harry's heart thumped loudly in his chest as he searched for his glasses. He couldn't let Uncle Vernon get to him. He knew this time would be bad.

However, his footsteps had stopped. What could he be up to? Harry's hand tripped over his glasses. He grabbed them and shoved them onto his face. The now focused room startled him. It was three times the size it should be. To his left, Harry saw, was a bed with someone in it, and to his right another. Harry tensed to stand up when realization hit. He flopped back onto his pillow, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

Why was he dreaming about the Dursleys when he had been at Grimmuald Place for over a month? Harry removed his hands from his face and looked at the clock on his nightstand. It really was 5:30, a half an hour after he usually woke when he stayed at the Dursleys. Still half asleep, Harry looked warily at the door. It would not surprise him if his uncle came barging through it at any second.

Knowing he was too tired to think straight, Harry removed his glasses, and went back to sleep.

* * *

Harry woke up a second time. Only now, it was because sunlight was slowly creeping into the room. A ray had fallen across Harry's eyes, causing him to stir.

Harry reached for his glasses and sat up. He felt he could think clearer, or at least better than earlier that morning.

The sunbeam that had woken him was not there anymore. Harry looked around for the light source. He knew there were no windows, so shy did he think it was coming from the sun?

_I must be more tired than I think._

It didn't take Harry long to find what he was looking for. Hanging in his portrait, Phineas Nigellus had his wand it by the _lumos_ charm. He moved it across the room again when he came to Harry.

"Oh, did I wake you?" he said, monotone. He was clearly annoyed, Harry could tell, to be checking the room.

"Off to tell _Dumbledore_ you're all accounted for…" Phineas walked out of his picture.

Harry sat in bed puzzled. Why had Dumbledore sent Phineas to check on him, Ron, and Draco? He would have to ask when everyone woke up. For now, he didn't feel like contemplating the possibilities.

His scar was tingling, now that he thought about it. It did so often that Harry hardly noticed anymore. In fact, it was more unusual for it not to be tingling.

Harry put his mind on other matters. He didn't want to think about Voldemort. It was 6:47, and nobody else was up yet.

_Sirius would have been up._

In an instant, a single flash, Harry relived Sirius' death, his attempt to seek revenge, and Dumbledore's explanation in his office. Harry felt himself slipping again into depression. He hadn't thought much about his godfather since he had arrived at Grimmuald Place. A surge of guilt bubbled in his stomach, making him nauseous.

He had gotten past trying to blame himself—or someone else—for what had happened. Rotting hands of depression gripped Harry's shoulders and brought them back against the mattress. He lay there, staring at the blank ceiling.

Harry had put many drawn-out hours at the Dursleys mourning Sirius' death. It seemed strange that since he had arrived at Sirius' house, he had spent a significantly less amount of time thing about him.

Harry looked over at Draco's still body. It was because of him. Even though Draco had proven himself a true allay, Harry was still ever wary. He was always on guard, although he tried to hide it. He was constantly aware of where his wand was; in his back pants pocket, or in his front robes pocket. Harry knew that Draco was still having a hard time accepting himself and his recent decisions. Sometimes, Harry fount it hard to hide his suspicion of Draco's true intentions. Draco did not need to be concerned with that.

Harry took off his glasses and rolled over, smashing his face into his pillow. The silence was suddenly too loud. He pulled the sheet over his head and went back to sleep.

* * *

"Are they done? Are they finished?"

"Yes, we just need to test them."

"Unlock the door, just incase we need help if something goes wrong."

"Ok, now, put them on."

"I'm not putting them on after what happened last time. You put them on."

"No, that's exactly why I'm not going to, little bro. You put them on."

"I'm not the younger one."

"Yes you are."

Fred and George glared at each other.

"Put them on," said Fred

"No! I was almost blinded last time I tried those extendable eyes," said George.

"You don't trust me to help you if something goes wrong?"

"Not with those," said George, indicating the small pair of glasses Fred held.

There was a pause.

"Do you want to try them on down there?" Fred asked, pointing to the floor.

George considered this. He was extremely annoyed at his brother right now. He tested the extendable eyes last time. Why couldn't Fred do it now?

"Fine," he said.

"Great," Fred clapped his hands together.

_POP._ The twins were gone.

* * *

"We don't want to play; we just thought it would be interesting to talk."

"'Interesting to talk?' To chess pieces?" the pawn looked at Harry like he was insane.

"Well," Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, "we were bored."

"Then play a game of chess if you're bored!" said the pawn, outraged.

"There are three of us," Hermione pointed out, "and chess is only for two. Besides, Ron always wins anyway."

Ron grinned. He knew she was right.

"But you're talking to chess pieces!" the pawn shook in anger and confusion. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Hermione. "Who has conversations with chess pieces!" Without looking, the pawn swung his sword to this right, decapitating the pawn next to him.

Draco listened from his bed. Lying with his hands behind his head, he rested hid eyes. Draco refused to try to engage chess pieces in a conversation. He had to admit though, that what he could hear was very amusing.

Back on the board, havoc was breaking loose.

"Traitor!" yelled a knight. "He was one of us!"

The knight made to shoot the pawn who had killed the one next to him, but his horse spooked. The knight's shot missed, and hit the king of the white pieces across the board.

"Illegal move!" shouted the queen. "Illegal move!" She knelt and wept for her husband.

"Attack!" yelled the white knight. The pieces surged forward.

"Fire!" roared the black knight. His pawns took aim and fired in unison.

"Oh my," said Hermione. She picked up the queens to keep them out of harms way.

The queens screamed in horror.

"Help! Help! I'm being abducted!" shouted the white one.

"Let me go!" The black queen stood from her chair and picked it up. She began repeatedly hitting Hermione's hand.

Meanwhile, the white queen attempted to jump off.

"No, no," said Hermione.

"Let me go!" shouted the white queen. He knelt down and bit Hermione's hand. Harry and Ron laughed.

"Ouch!" Hermione shrieked and dropped the queens among the fighting chess pieces.

_POP._ The Weasley twins appeared. Fred landed on the chess board, (literally) suppressing the battle. George bounced on Harry's bed, and then walked over to Ron's. He pulled Fred off the board.

Ron looked horrified at the sight before him. All of the chess pieces were smashed like clay into the board, and twitching. Harry took out his wand to poke them.

"Harry!" scolded Hermione.

"What?" he asked. "They're just chess pieces," he shrugged, but put his wand away.

"I guess you're right." Said Ron, although his expression hadn't changed.

Fred removed the board from the bed.

"George is going to test the extendable eyes," he said.

"No I'm not," said George. "Fred is."

Ron was afraid they would make him do it, but didn't move for fear that they would notice him.

Fred looked around the room to try to think of something to get George to try the extendable eyes. Instead, he saw Draco. He appeared to be sleeping.

"You're right, I will," said Fred.

"What?" said George, confused by his brother's sudden change of mind.

Fred put on the glasses. The lenses sunk back and merged with his eyes. Fred flinched when they touched his eyeballs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in disgust. Like a cartoon, Fred's eyes stretched out of the frame of the glasses. They grew and stretched like two rods across the room over to Draco. They curved so they were "eye to eye" with him.

Draco was in that half stage between being awake and asleep. He had heard the twins apperate into the room and the conversation that followed, but it never really registered. However, for some reason, he opened his eyes.

"Ahh!" Draco swatted at the hovering pair of eyes before him.

"Ahh!" Fred grabbed at his face when Draco hit his eyes. They quickly sunk back to his face. Fred ripped off the glasses and rubbed his eyes. George ran over to see if there was anything he could do. He persuaded Fred to remove his hands. Fred's eyes were swollen, red, and tearing.

"Can you see?" asked George.

"Yes," said Fred. "They just sting." He tried to glare at Draco. "I think I would have been fine if you hadn't hit my eyes."

"You asked for it," said Draco defensively.

Harry laughed. He was right.

"Well, now we know nothing can tough the eyes when they're extended, little bro," said George.

"I'm not the younger-"

"I'm going to write that down," said George.

_POP._ He was gone.

Fred growled. "He's going to get it."

_POP._

* * *

Me love reviews


	7. The Froggy Train

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

a/n: Sorry for a certain part in the chapter. You'll see why. In case you've forgotten (or I accidentally made it up), the grading for the OWLs are E Exceeds Expatiations, A Acceptable, P Poor, D Dreadful, and T Toad. Also, I didn't feel like making up specific classes for Draco.

There is one quote in this chapter.

On with it.

* * *

"Boo!"

Ginny jumped out from around the corner, arms high and fingers curled to look like claws. Draco, however, simply stared. He hadn't even flinched.

"Good try," he said, patting her on the head. He proceeded towards the bathroom.

Draco could feel his old personality slowly drifting back to him. The mask of ice he usually wore had melted over the last month, but it was beginning to freeze again. Draco felt slightly better as he relieved himself, but he still felt moody.

When he finished, Draco zipped his pants and flushed the toilet. He turned sharply to the sink and jammed on the water. He did not wait for it to get warm. The water at the manor was always artic.

Draco dried his hands and threw the towel on the floor. What did he care? He reached to open the door but stopped. What was wrong with him?

Draco put the toilet lid down and sat. Hebrought his icy hands to his aching head. He knew exactly what was wrong. Today was his last day at Grimmuald Place. Nobody had received their OWL scores yet (or book lists, but Draco didn't care so much about them). Like almost any student at Hogwarts, the possibility that he could get bad scores haunted him. That thought, however, was only a little fly buzzing around his ear compared to what tomorrow would bring. Tomorrow he would ride the train to Hogwarts—along with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Draco did not mind spending time with them, even if Ginny sometimes acted younger than her age. In fact, Draco would love to share a compartment with the goody-good-Gryffindors. That really was not the problem.

What bothered Draco were his Slytherin friends. What would they think of him now? He would want to show them that he had not changed, and ride with them. Draco could re-adopt his old personality at Hogwarts and still be nice to people. (Would that work?) He decided there would not be a problem with that. It never occurred to him that the Slytherins might not accept him.

Draco brought his pale hands away from his face. They were almost as white as the painted walls of the bathroom. Draco turned on the hot water and let it run over his hands. It felt incredibly good, and he could see their color returning. When he finished, he picked up the towel to dry his hands, folded it, and hung it back up. However, Draco still felt moody.

Frustrated that he apparently did not have the ability to make himself feel better at the moment, Draco wrenched open the door.

Draco flung the door behind him to slam it shut, but remembered the loud sound would wake Mrs. Black. He quickly turned and reached to stop the door, but instead it shut on his fingers. Cursing, Draco released his hand. He shook off the pain and then looked up to find himself outside the twin's bedroom. This is where his feet had carried him? Interesting. Very interesting.

He knocked. "Its Draco," he called.

The door swung open and he stepped inside. Draco flopped onto Fred's bed.

"Just a minute," said George.

He and Fred were huddled over an extremely long strip of parchment at the other side of the room. Sitting at a desk, they whispered a few more sentenced, and then rolled up whatever it was they were looking at. Pushing on the desk, they rolled over to Draco, letting the bed stop them.

"What seems to bet he problem?" asked Fred.

The question caught Draco completely off guard. How did they know something was bothering him?

Draco sighed. He might as well see if they could help.

"Well," he started, but hesitated, biding for time. "Tomorrow we go back to Hogwarts," he hesitated again. "I wasn't sure, first off, on the train I wasn't sure…" _who I should sit with._ The matter suddenly seemed extremely stupid.

"Never mind," he concluded. _This is stupid. I feel like an idiot._

"No, tell us," said George.

"Everybody knows something's bothering you," said Fred.

"You've been acting—"

"Different."

"You mean I've been acting like I used to, before I switched sides?" said Draco bluntly. He knew they could see it.

"Well, yeah," agreed George.

For some reason, Draco glared at them, and then continued.

"I'd like to spend the train ride with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but I feel like I shouldn't. If feel like I should be with the Slytherins."

Fred and George glanced at each other, and then looked back at Draco.

"We could help you on this one," said Fred.

"But we think you should talk to Harry, Ron and Hermione about it," said George.

The twins pushed off the bed and wheeled back to the desk.

Draco was not sure if he should be mad or not, so he left without a word.

Down the hall, he could see Harry hurrying towards him.

"Draco!" he called quietly. "We just got our OWLs and booklists."

Draco's jaw dropped and the two hurried back to their bedroom.

Ron and Hermione were already examining their results when Harry and Draco arrived. Draco pounced on the envelope lying on his bed and ripped it open. He would have appreciated the fact that Harry had found him before looking at his own results, but Draco was too caught up in the moment to care. He let the booklist fall and unfolded his OWL scores. They were all E's and A's. He was very proud of himself. Draco looked up.

"How did you lot do?" he asked.

"Hermione got all E's," said Ron, making her blush. "I got all A's, except for one D, one T, and one E," he finished proudly.

Harry stayed silent. Draco walked over to look at his scores. His eyes were first drawn to his Defense against the Dark Arts and History of Magic scores. In Defense Against the Dark Arts he got and E, but there was a comment next to it. It said: Absolutely amazing. In History of Magic he got a T. There was also a comment. It read: Unusually unsatisfactory. The rest were all A's and one P.

"Since when do you get comments?" asked Draco. He checked his scores for any.

"Nobody ever gets comments," said Ron. He and Hermione walked over to see Harry's scores.

"Wow," said Hermione. "We know you didn't do ten minutes worth of History of Magic, but in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you must have done really well. I'm not that amazed though. Everybody knows you're excellent in that area."

"Weren't you teaching a group?" asked Draco.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"That's the only reason I got an E," said Ron.

The four quieted remembering how Draco had helped Professor Umbridge capture Harry.

"Draco," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "Who are you going to be with on the train tomorrow?"

Although it had bothered him before, Draco suddenly didn't see what the big deal was. He could split the ride if he really wanted. Draco would decide tomorrow. It didn't matter. For now, Hermione wanted an answer.

"I was—" started Draco, almost defensively.

"You're going to ride with your Slytherin friends aren't you?" asked Ron. He sounded betrayed.

"Well I—" Draco started again, but took on a different tone.

"Draco, you're going to do whatever you like," Hermione interrupted. "But honestly, after all of the information you've given the Order, how many of them do you think will actually be there?"

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. Hermione had a valid point. Most of the Death Eaters names he had given to the Order had children in Hogwarts. The parents would have to go into hiding and would probably bring their almost-of-age teens with them. Draco sighed.

"I'm not sure I know what I want to do." He said at last, forgetting his earlier plan.

"I'll hex anyone who gives you grief, Malfoy," said Harry threateningly. He was spinning his wand between his middle and ring fingers.

Draco laughed and took out his wand.

"You have to teach me how to do that."

* * *

As always when the Weasley family is involved, the next morning was crazy. Mrs. Weasley's and Mrs. Black's shouts could be heard throughout the house issuing orders and insults. The ministry, thankfully, had lent them a car again. (Draco was amazed how, including himself, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professor Lupin, Mad Eye Moody, and Tonks could fit comfortably into the green sedan.) Despite this, the morning was so disorganized that Ron forgot his trunk and remembered when they were half way to the train station. A yelling from Mrs. Weasley, a lecture from Mr. Weasley, and another car ride later, they arrive at King's Cross. The five students managed to hurl themselves onto the train just as it began to pull out of the station.

Ginny left in search for her friends, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco to search for an empty compartment. To their surprise, they found one—the very last compartment at the very end of the train.

"I can't believe we made it," said Hermione as she flopped into a seat. Harry and Draco put their trunks on the luggage rack.

"Here," Ron said. "Have a chocolate frog."

"That seems to be your answer to everything, Ron," she said smiling, and bit into the frog.

"Works for me," shrugged Ron.

Harry and Draco sat down.

Don't you see who's frog can jump the farthest?" asked Draco.

"I never thought to do that," said Ron.

"Let's try it then," said Harry, taking out a frog of his own.

"Let's start here," said Draco. He knelt down and held his frog on a crack in the wooden train floor. "And let go when I say."

"You're not still going to eat them when you're done are you?" asked Hermione.

"Why not?" Harry replied, and knelt with Ron next to Draco.

"That's disgusting," said Hermione.

"Ready?" asked Draco. "And, let go!"

Harry's frog tripped over itself and went face first into the floor. It froze; its magic was gone. Draco's leapt sideways and ran into Ron's throwing it off course. They landed in a heap and froze.

Before the boys could laugh in amusement, a trunk appeared andsmashed them all. Standing behind it was Neville, slightly red in the face.

"Everywhere else if full. Do you mind if I stay here?" he asked.

"You squashed our chocolate frogs," said Draco, standing up.

Neville gasped. Hehadn't seen Draco. Neville took a step back. He looked from Draco to Harry.

Draco bent and tilted the trunk back. He pealed the three frogs off the floor. Draco handed Harry's over, but his and Ron's had been molded into one.

"Just rip it down the center, I guess," said Ron.

Draco ripped the blob apart and looked at his half.

"It'll taste the same," he shrugged.

The three boys stuffed their flattened chocolate into their mouths.

"You're disgusting, all of you," said Hermione. She wrinkled her nose as Ron swallowed, and disappeared behind a large book.

"Here," said Ron. He lifted Neville's trunk onto the luggage rack. "You can come in," he said after Neville didn't move.

Neville sent a wary glance at Draco, and then slowly moved into the compartment.

"Don't worry," said Harry. "He doesn't bite anymore."

Draco smacked his teeth together.

"I have a muzzle in my bag," Harry warned sarcastically.

"No, you don't," said Draco.

"No, but I could use my tie as a gag."

"You wouldn't," said Draco simply.

"You're right, I wouldn't," said Harry.

"Why is he here?" asked Neville feeling tensely ill at ease.

"Because I decided not to bite," said Draco.

Neville laughed nervously.

"Sorry about your frogs," he said. Draco seemed normal enough. If Harry trusted him, so could he.

Draco shrugged. "It was still good."

"That can be debated," said Hermione from behind her book.

"But it won't," said Draco.

"You really are staying?" asked Neville.

"Yep," Draco leaned back in his seat.

* * *

a/n: The next chapter will be fun to write. 


	8. At First Sight

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: this one is kind of short, I think. Don't know if the next one will be any longer… or what it will be about now that I think of it. Lost my outline…

one extremely obvious quote in this chapter

* * *

At First Sight

* * *

"I'll see you around then," 

"See you later, Draco," said Hermione.

"Yeah, see you later," said Ron.

"See you," said Harry.

The three Gryffindors walked over to their table, leaving Draco alone. He looked to the opposite side of the hall.

_Here goes nothing._

As Draco approached the Slytherin table, he noticed Hermione had been right. Most of his year was gone. A wave of hatred seized him. They were all probably plotting Harry's death right now, come to think of it.

_The cowards_, Draco thought ironically. He had run away; he broke free of the death grip his family held on him. Why couldn't they?

Draco sat down next to a third year who glared at him.

"What are you looking at?" he spat. The third year immediately wiped the look of distaste off his face.

Draco looked around again, satisfied. Most of the sixth years were gone, and almost every seventh year also. All of his friends had left.

_I'll make new friends. Already have._

Any further thought Draco had vanished as the hall suddenly silenced. He looked to see Dumbledore standing at the center of the staff table. He stood for a couple of seconds, beaming down at the students he loved so much.

"Drink up me hearties yo ho!" he cried, and the feast appeared.

* * *

The feast had been boring and lonely. The food, for some reason, hadn't tasted as good this year. Draco, deep in thought, walked the empty halls of Hogwarts to his dormitory. Later, when he recalled this memory, he couldn't remember what he was thinking about before it happened. Whatever it was, it vanished when he realized he was sitting on the floor with a girl sitting in front of him, giggling and holding the left side of her forehead. 

Draco suddenly zoned out. He watched as her highlighted brown hair swung around her currently bright read face in slow motion as he savored the moment. He longed to touch her beautiful face and look into her gorgeous brown eyes.

Plunging back into reality, Draco looked between them and saw what must have been her books scattered on the floor. Without realizing what he was doing, Draco gathered up her fallen books. He stood and helped her up. She wasn't laughing anymore, but she was still holding her forehead.

"Are you ok?" he asked. Draco felt like a puppet. He didn't realize what he was doing until it was already being done.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she said, and giggled again.

Draco removed her hand from her head. It was red where her hand was, and there was a bump. He gently ran his thumb over it.

"You have a hard head," she said.

Draco smiled. He wasn't sure what to say to that. He bent down, and handed her her books instead.

"I'll see you around then," Draco said.

"Bye."

They walked away from each other.

Draco wasn't sure how he felt. Normally he would have been furious if someone had bumped into him—male or female.

Draco reentered his realm of thought. Who was she? Draco mentally bashed himself over the head for not asking for her name. Surely she wasn't a first year. She didn't look that young. Then why hadn't he seen her before? Maybe she was new…

Draco reached the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory and banged his against the stone wall.

"Stupid freaking password," he said, and then gave up on not swearing and cursed. His mind was too scattered, thinking of that girl, he couldn't remember the stupid password.

Draco sank to the floor and put his head on his knees.

_What was her name?_

What is the password?

_I helped her up…_

Bloody Baron! No.

_Is she new?_

Pureblood?

_I touched her forehead._

No, that was last year.

_She was so beautiful._

Password…

_Why haven't I seen her before?_

Can't remember.

_I wonder what house she's in… _

"Are you ok?"

Draco's head snapped up—it was her! He opened his mouth to respond, but his mind suddenly went blank. Nothing came out.

"Um… alright… Bloody Baron." The door opened when she said the password.

A light bulb when on above Draco's head.

"Wait—you're in Slytherin?"!

She looked at him funny. "Yes, and so are you."

"Uh…" Draco stood up. "How come I've never seen you before?" She was the most enchanting creature he'd ever seen. Why hadn't he recognized her before?

"I have no idea," she said. "I'm only one year below you."

Another light bulb went on.

"What's your name?" Draco asked.

"Stephanie Berry." She smiled and held out her hand. Draco almost melted. He shook her hand. He was surprisingly steady.

"I'm Draco Malfoy." He unexpectedly just then believed that his name sounded extremely stupid.

The light bulb went out, and then exploded.

Stephanie tried to release her hand after they shook, but Draco kept a firm grip. She shook again and tried to let go, but Draco wouldn't budge.

"This is a very long hand shake," she said, and laughed.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." He let go.

Draco suddenly had the feeling they were being watched. He looked up and saw a tall skinny boy with brown curly hair glaring hat him. Draco glared back.

_Who is that? How _dare_ he glare at _me?

The boy walked away.

Stephanie saw Draco's expression change. She looked behind her, but the boy had already walked away—nobody was there. Confused, she looked back at Draco.

"Draco? What's wrong?"

He could have melted again. She said his name. Despite that, his mind was significantly clearer.

"Somebody walked by and gave me a really dirty look, so I glared back," he said.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Draco. "I've only ever seen him around. I don't know his name. He might be in Hufflepuff…"

"Hmm… oh well," she said, and shrugged. "Are you good in potions? That's what I've heard."

"I'm not bad," Draco said. He could see where this was going, and he liked it.

"I just… I don't know. I don't get it. Could you help me? I have an essay due tomorrow."

"Sure," he said like it was no problem. Heh, yeah, no problem.

They both turned and walked straight into the door, which closed since Stephanie said the password.

"Ahh..." Stephanie held the left side of her forehead.

Holding his nose, Draco turned to her. "Are you ok?" _How many times is that question going to be asked?_

"Yeah, ouch. I'll be fine. Bloody Baron."

The door opened and they walked in.

a/n: I had a really hard time capturing Stephanie's personality in this chapter. It'll come out better later. -swings yoyo- review... review...


	9. Love in the Air

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: I suppose you could say it's hypocritical of me to say that I hate author's notes and then write a long one myself. Oh well. What is there to be done? It isn't absolutely necessary for me to say what I'm going to say, but I'm going to say it anyway. I really should work on eliminating my hypocritical ways…

Anyway, I had lost my outline, but found it just recently. It doesn't matter though, because I can't read half of my own scribble, and I can't remember what the other half was supposed to mean. I do know that Draco was supposed to end up all nice and happy-go-lucky, but that just sounds stupid after reading HBP. I'm going to tweak that a little which might change the overall mood of the story. Never fear though! I cannot resist the urge of writing at 2 am and produce wacky scenes.

And now I'm just babbling. Babble, babble, babble…

There was something else I wanted to say, but I can't remember at the moment…

Oh yes! I have decided not to continue the quote-finding contest. The treats to go to those lucky winners were scribbled on my outline and are currently some word in which I cannot think of right now. What I was thinking at the moment has been reduced to a nothingness that only takes up room in my notebook. Also, my cookie dough that I was intending to bake for you has grown moldy in waiting. I wish not to look upon the green fuzzy mold that has taken over, and I will throw it away promptly. However, I will still be sneaking in POTC quotes for my own amusement. You may still want to be on the lookout.

There are two quotes in this chapter.

* * *

It might have been that he was back at Hogwarts. Maybe it was just the fact that he had lost an enemy and gained a friend. It could have been that in the here and now, things were as they should be. Whatever it was, Harry could not have felt better. He blamed Ron and Hermione's dispute on an insignificant issue that caused his mischievous side to kick in. He would have to fix this. Harry was sure he would receive a beating by his best friends for what was accumulating inside his head. The thought almost made him giddy. Harry shoved half of his slice of pie in his mouth in a Ron--like fashion to stop himself from laughing. All of this came to a screeching halt, however, as his hormones overpowered. Harry froze mid-chew. 

"It was too late!" she was saying, hurrying over to the Gryffindor table. "It was too late to come and find you! Hermione, I forgot to write down the Arithmancy homework again."

"Hannah!" Hermione said severely. "What were you doing?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hannah said lightly, looking up at the ceiling and then out the window as if she might space out. "I climbed a tree!" she said excitedly. "I haven't climbed one in ages!"

"You were doing that all afternoon?" Hermione said skeptically, but amused at the same time.

"Well, no. But I fell out!" She pulled up her sleeve. "I broke my wrist in four places."

"You'll have trouble writing a foot essay in 20 minutes with those bruises," said Hermione.

Hannah groaned.

For the first time, Harry unglued his unblinking eyes from Hannah's face. Glancing at her arm, he saw what looked like a bracelet of bruises around a swelled wrist.

"Why didn't Mme Pomphrey clear them up?" Hermione asked, inspecting her wrist.

"She will tonight." Hannah covered her wrist back up. "She said it might teach me not to climb so high in trees," she said shyly, yet smiling broadly.

"Well let me look at the essay question. I've forgotten exactly what it was."

Hermione stood up and then stooped down again to retrieve her bag. In the brief second that they stood next to each other, Harry noticed that Hannah was a couple of inches taller than Hermione. Hannah was almost as tall as him. Harry's eyes slid down her lean body and then locked back on her face. He shifted the food in his mouth.

"How come you're so nice to her, but you'll bite our heads off when Harry and I forget assignments?" Ron demanded.

"Because Hannah can write a perfect essay in 20 minutes and receive top scores. You two couldn't write a prefect essay even if you had a week to do it." Hermione turned to a now blushing Hannah. "Here," she said handing her essay over.

Hannah glanced at the title and then handed it back.

"Alright," she said, her brown hair bouncing due to its slight wave. "Thanks."

Hannah hurried away. Harry followed her brunette head until it disappeared amongst a group of Ravenclaws.

Harry finished chewing and made a large swallow. He then took a long drink of pumpkin juice and returned his gaze to the Ravenclaw table, searching for Hannah. Ron snickered.

Harry looked at him, annoyed that his search had been interrupted.

"What?"

Ron shoved his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Honestly, Harry, could you be more _obvious?_" Hermione said, taking a large book out of her bag.

"What are you talking about?" So what if he was looking at the person Hermione was talking to?

Hermione rolled her eyes and disappeared behind _Accurate Arithmancy_.

"Good thing she's single."

Harry could not help but feel a little happier.

* * *

By the end of the day, Harry was feeling almost giddy again. He still could not figure out what Ron and Hermione were arguing about, and it was having a strange effect on him. 

_I will have to fix this_, he decided for the second time that day.

How was the problem. All of his ideas from lunch had vanished without a trace with the arrival of Hannah- but he must not think of her now. Harry needed to come up with another plan.

The coast was clear; nobody was in the hall but them. Harry wondered why this was significant. He still did not have the slightest idea of what to do.

The three walked along a little further when, for no particular reason, Harry looked to his right. They walked almost shoulder to shoulder, Harry being closed to the middle of the hallway, then Hermione, then Ron, almost a foot from the wall. As it happened, right at that moment, the door to a broom closet was wide open.

Without thinking, Harry ran into Hermione, who ran into Ron, who fell into the closet. Harry gave Hermione another shove and she stumbled in on top of Ron. Before either could stand, Harry slammed the door shut, locked it magically, and put his ear up to the keyhole.

At first there was only silence. Then there was some movement as Ron and Hermione stood up.

"Harry?" Ron called. "Harry! Hermione! Harry's gone!"

Harry could almost hear Hermione roll her eyes.

"He's not _gone!_ He's just outside the door! Honestly, Ron."

"Harry?" Ron called.

"Yep?" answered Harry as casually as if they were talking side by side.

"Ok, he's here," Ron confirmed.

Hermione heaved a shaky sigh. Harry could tell she was trying to refrain from doing something violent to Ron.

"When are you going to let us out?" she asked through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"As soon as you two can figure out how to stop fighting all the time," Harry said simply.

"We weren't fighting!" said Ron.

"Could have fooled me."

"Ok, fine, we won't fight anymore—happy?" said Hermione.

"Nope."

It might have gotten a little brighter in that closet. A light bulb just went on over Ron's head as he realized what was happening.

"I'm going to hurt you when I get out of here," said Ron.

"I'm fully prepared for that," said Harry, and walked away.

"But we're prefects!" Hermione called. "You can't leave us like this!"

Harry walked off, wondering what he should do in his spare time.

* * *

It had not occurred to Harry that he was giving Ron and Hermione the perfect time to plan their revenge. Draco made him realize this after telling him the story by the lake. 

"It's about time though," said Draco. "I have to admit that if you hadn't done something like this, I would have."

"Only you wouldn't have been so nice about it," said Harry, plopping himself in the shade of a tree.

"You know me too well, Harry," said Draco. He started to climb the tree.

"After years of dueling with you, I got to know you a little," said Harry.

"I could say the same to you—but did you know I like to climb trees?" Draco asked, pulling off a small branch.

"No." Harry laid down so he did not have to crane his neck.

"Good, because I don't."

Harry frowned.

"I just feel like throwing something at you." He dropped the branch.

"What?" Harry half laughed. He caught the branch and placed it next to him, just in case he felt like throwing something at Draco later.

"Draco, if I had done that to you, you would have hexed me—or tried to," Harry grinned.

"Are you suggesting something Potter?" Draco asked. He hopped down from the tree. "And just because we're on good terms now, doesn't mean you can insult me." He pointed his wand at Harry.

"And that doesn't mean you can throw things at me," said Harry. "Don't even try," he added, "you know I'll beat you laying down."

"_Stu-"_

"_Protego!"_ Harry whipped his wand out faster than the speed of light. He sent Draco's spell zooming off in another direction before it disappeared.

Draco threw another hex at Harry, only this time on a nonverbal command. Harry created a protection shield so forcefully that Draco had to grab the tree to keep his balance.

"You can't beat me, Jack," Harry said, standing up. He let his shield disintegrate.

Draco drew back his sword and drove it into Harry's chest. Harry rolled his eyes and, in one swift movement, pulled out the sword and plunged it into Draco's chest.

Draco gagged and stepped back. A leaf appeared in his hand, and he examined it in the sunlight.

"Couldn't resist mate," he said, looking back at Harry.

Draco pulled the branch from between his arm and body, and the two resumed mock-sword fighting with very leafy branches.

"Boys are so funny!" said a voice to Harry's right.

Draco put down his branch.

"Hey Steph," he said.

Draco is associating with someone who says 'Boys are so funny'? _He really has changed,_ Harry thought.

"Hug!" Stephanie threw open her arms.

Harry's surprise was doubled when Draco smiled and they embraced.

"You two were sword fighting!—so cute!" Stephanie squealed. Draco made no sign of distaste.

_Wow_, Harry thought for several different reasons.

"Ok," she said more seriously and pulled out a piece of parchment. "Look!"

Draco grabbed the essay.

"Did you do this by yourself?" he asked.

Stephanie nodded, grinning.

"Wow! Great gob!" said Draco, and he hugged her.

"Just wanted to show you," she said. "See you later!" Stephanie turned to Harry, a blank expression suddenly on her face.

"Bye," she said, waving, her hand folding slowly. After a few seconds, she walked away.

Harry looked at Draco and raised his eyebrows.

"I've been helping her with potions," Draco said.

Harry laughed.

"I have!" said Draco. He pushed Harry as they started to walk towards the castle. "She got a really good mark on that essay."

"Yeah, whatever. She's very-"

"She was excited!" said Draco. "She's not always like that. She's really nice and an interesting person. I-"

"Yes?" Harry said, elbowing Draco in the ribs. Draco glared at him.

"I really like her," he finished, looking straight ahead.

There was a pause. They walked up the castle steps.

"So what do you do when you two are done studying?" Harry asked.

"Shut up."

* * *

As soon as Harry entered the common room, two very threatening people headed towards him. Harry put up his hand. 

"I've met Stephanie Berry," he said, and dropped himself into his favorite armchair.

_SLAP_. Hermione looked very pleased with herself.

"It's a good thing we weren't caught," she said. "Luna found us."

Harry held his cheek, still looking at her with an expression of mixed amusement and shock. He _had_ expected this, but she hit really hard!

Hermione sat down next to Ron.

"You just wait for what I've planned," said Ron, grinning. "I know where you sleep."

Harry's jaw dropped. Weren't they being a bit harsh?

Hermione sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"It worked though," she said, and Harry saw that they were holding hands.

"What's wrong with Stephanie?" asked Ron.

"She's really annoying," said Harry.

"You must have seen the bubbly side of her," said Hermione. "She only gets like that when she's excited—but I do agree. She can be _very_ annoying."

"How do you know she was excited?" asked Harry.

Hermione shrugged. "It's a girl thing. And she's in my Arithmancy class."

"You don't get like that when you're excited," said Ron.

Hermione ignored this. "She's good friends with Hannah."

Harry remembered Hannah. He wondered when he would see her again. She did seem to be good friends with Hermione also.

"Stephanie can be a little weird too," continued Hermione.

"You're weird," said Ron.

"Oh Ron, do shut up!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Don't start again," warned Harry. "How else is she weird?" He thought of Stephanie's goodbye.

"I can't really explain it." Hermione looked irritated. "I think I'll go to bed." She walked away.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Harry.

Ron shrugged.

"Have fun in that closet, Ron?" Harry asked, grinning.

The tips of Ron's ears turned red. "Maybe."

"Ha!" said Harry. "So why do you want to get back at me then?"

"You don't know what it was like in there at first!" said Ron. "She kept accusing me of everything. You know how Hermione is. And the pressure is weird."

"But it worked."

"Yeah, it worked," admitted Ron. "Maybe we should trap you and Hannah in that closet."

Harry was stunned. He was only looking at her for a little at lunch! How did they all know?

"I wouldn't mind," he mumbled to his feet.

"Ha!" said Ron, imitating Harry. "Hermione was right. But you would mind. Maybe I should do that instead…nah."

It felt wired for his best friend to be openly plotting against him.

"Anyway," said Ron, "do you still have that History of Magic essay to write? I haven't started mine."

"Haven't started either," said Harry. "But Hermione left her bag down here. Maybe we could borrow her notes… or her essay."

"She would kill us!" said Ron. "Besides, she'll come down later to help us. She can't resist it."

"You're probably right," said Harry.

Ready for a long night, the procrastinators pulled open their textbooks.

* * *

Hope you liked it! Review time... 


End file.
